


The Worst Part of Waking Up

by ConnorRK



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Choking, Drunk Sex, Incest, M/M, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Rape, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-18 07:52:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16990995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConnorRK/pseuds/ConnorRK
Summary: He didn’t think he was that drunk, until he tried to take a step to the side, shoving at the counter. The weight against his back increased, Nines holding him down, holding him still. He wasn’t much smaller than his brother, but his limbs felt like wet snow sliding uselessly off the marble.“Nines?” he slurs now, not sure if he’s dreaming. The hand on his cock squeezes and pulls softly, and against his will, heat puddles in his belly. “What are you doing?”





	The Worst Part of Waking Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tveckling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tveckling/gifts).



> Birthday gift for tveck, who's a member of our ye olde detroit cum dump server, and a good friend! Happy birthday, here's some Christmas noncon incest!
> 
> Title is a super stupid reference lolol

He only had enough drinks to get tipsy as he caught up with his brother late into the night, sitting at the kitchen bar in near darkness except for the glow of the Christmas tree. He rarely drank, but it was a special occasion, and it’s been months since he’d last seen Nines.

Connor had always been close with his younger twin, an understanding of each other borne from years in the foster care system before Amanda officially adopted them. They had friends and colleagues, but it was understood that no one could be closer to them than each other. It was unspoken and unbroken, and Connor never questioned it, never wondered how deeply his brother abided by that.

With his head halfway in the clouds, Connor didn’t at first understand Nines' intentions when he took Connor’s hand and urged him up from the barstool. Had been laughing lightly when he was spun in his brother’s arms and pressed to the counter.

Didn’t question his brother sliding flush against his back, barely aware of anything except being held and being content. Until he felt fingers dipping below his loose sweatpants, cold fingers against his warm skin, gripping him, pumping him slowly.

He didn’t think he was that drunk, until he tried to take a step to the side, shoving at the counter. The weight against his back increased, Nines holding him down, holding him still. He wasn’t much smaller than his brother, but his limbs felt like wet snow sliding uselessly off the marble.

“Nines?” he slurs now, not sure if he’s dreaming. The hand on his cock squeezes and pulls softly, and against his will, heat puddles in his belly. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve missed you,” Nines whispers against his neck, pressing his lips beneath Connor’s ear, against the sensitive curve of his jaw. Connor shudders when a warm tongue flicks against his skin and then Nines sucks a kiss against the spot. Goosebumps flare down Connor’s spine. “It’s difficult, being separated from you. I find myself filled with thoughts of you. Do you think of me?”

Connor’s brain is cotton fluff soaked in eggnog and cognac. His tongue is fat and heavy in his mouth, and it takes too long to shape it into the right words. “Nines, stop. I’m your brother. Stop this.” He keeps his voice low, vaguely aware that their mother is asleep down the hall. She’s always been a light sleeper, and he doesn’t want her to walk in on this.

He’s filling out in Nines’ hands, the frigid fingers warmed by the blood rushing to his cock. They circle the base and slide up his length, squeezing and twisting, before running back down it in a barely-there teasing stroke. Disgust twists in Connor’s stomach, and he tries to push back from the counter again, but he can’t lift Nines' weight pinning him there.

“I know,” Nines sighs, warm breath tickling Connor’s ear. He rolls his body against Connor and presses another wet kiss to his neck. “My brother. Strong, steadfast Connor. Let me help you relax.”

A thumb swipes across the head of Connor’s cock, smearing the precome he’s already leaking, and Connor’s hips twitch into it instinctually. A flush of shame rushes up his neck, burning across his cheeks.

“No,” Connor says, but there are fingers at his lips, pressing past his teeth, pushing his tongue down. He should shut his mouth, sink his teeth into them in warning, but his lips close too softly around them. He doesn’t want to hurt Nines. It’s not too late to stop whatever this is.

“It’s alright, Connor. I know you want this. I do, too.” The weight on his back presses him down, bending him across the low countertop. Something hard slots neatly against his ass, and Nines sighs into his ear, rocking against him. The marble is cold through his t-shirt and against his cheek. He shakes his head, trying to dislodge the hand at his mouth, but the fingers push in deeper, swirling around his tongue.

He makes a sound low in his throat as Nines’ strokes tighten on his cock with intent. He doesn’t want to be touched, doesn’t want his brother doing this, but each stroke along his pulsing length inches him closer to relief, and his body is uninterested in his cloudy thoughts. He can’t stop his hips from bucking into the downstroke and his lips compress around the fingers, sucking involuntarily.

“There we are. See? I told you so.” Another kiss to his jaw, and slowly Nines withdraws his fingers. They’re slick with saliva, shining green and red and yellow. Drool drips from the corner of Connor's lips, pooling on the marble under his cheek as he gasps.

Nines’ strokes pause, and Connor’s legs tremble, so close to the edge. Sickness clenches at his gut as his hips twitch and push, seeking more friction.

Shifting, the body above him lifts slightly, and relief floods Connor. This is over. His brother was just teasing him, taking things a little too far, but that’s all. There are slick fingers at the small of his back where his shirt has ridden up, and he shivers as he gets his arms under him, pushing up from the bar.

He doesn’t expect them to slide beneath his waistband, his own cooling saliva marking a trail over the top of his ass, down between his cheeks. He jumps, and the hand on his cock squeezes.

“Nines. Nines, stop, this is—” He didn’t mean to raise his voice, but he’s forgotten where he is, why he’s been so quiet in the first place. The hand leaves his cock, another relief.

“Shhh,” Nines hushes, and it clamps hard around Connor’s throat instead, fingers gripping tight to hold him steady, palm crushing his windpipe. “Don’t want mother to hear, do we?”

He struggles against the hand, wrenching his head around, and the weight comes down on his back again, slamming him across the countertop. Fingers prod at his ass, digging in past his rim. Connor chokes, trying to cry out at the burning intrusion, but the hand around his throat is too tight.

He can’t breath, can’t make a noise, and he reaches back, grasping at Nines' hair, hair just like his own, styled just like his. Nines hushes him again, kissing across the back of Connor’s neck, even as Connor yanks at the soft strands and bucks against the fingers prying him open.

His lungs and throat burn, his ribs ache from hitting the marble. Nines’ fingers twist, scissoring, and then he feels a third digging in next to the others. He clenches his eyes shut, and slowly his limbs fall limp when everything gets cloudy again.

The hand on his throat releases abruptly, and his first breath is loud in the silent kitchen, a deep gasp, until the hand clamps down across his mouth instead, muffling him. He moves his head weakly, but the fingers dig into his cheek, and he has to huff each breath through his nose, chest heaving. He lets go of Nines' hair, pressing against the countertop again to no avail.

The fingers in him thrust shallowly, and he hadn’t even been aware of Nines talking until the rushing in his ears slows a little.

“That’s it. Nice and quiet, Connor. Don’t wake mother. She’d be so disappointed in you.”

It stings in his chest, somewhere beneath the shame and confusion and nausea. She has always been displeased with Connor and his choices. This would bring that small curl of disapproval to her lip. This holiday get-together was more an excuse to see Nines than her, and everyone was aware.

He’d wanted to see Nines. See his brother. Not—

The fingers pull out, and after moment—the shifting of clothing he can barely make out—his sweatpants are yanked down, freeing his still leaking erection, baring his ass. The hand across Connor’s mouth tightens down, catching his gasp, holding it in his mouth as he feels something hard and thick pressing to his rim, rubbing teasingly.

“You’re so beautiful, Connor,” Nines says reverently, gripping Connor’s face hard as he squirms. The cock sinks in, slowly, inch by inch, and it burns. “So lovely. I want to keep you forever. Lock you up. Protect you from harm.”

His breaths are coming too fast and Connor struggles, crying into Nines’ palm, pressing against the form draped over his. He can’t get enough air, can’t breathe with his chest pressed to the bar, and his vision swims.

A hand returns to Connor’s cock, and Nines pulls out slowly as he pumps Connor. When he pushes back in, angling his hips, electric heat shoots through Connor’s groin and he huffs wetly against Nines’ palm.

“Don’t worry. I want to make you feel so good, Connor. I know just how you’ll like this.”

He does it again, angling his hips, thighs pressed to Connor’s, and again Connor feels that spark through him. The hand on his cock is warm and wet with his gathered precum, stroking steadily, and as Nines slowly increases the pace of his thrusts, Connor’s body moves, seeking that delicious pressure, fucking into his brother’s hand.

Nines’ hand twists and up and down his cock. There are teeth at his nape, nipping at him, licking at his sweaty skin. It feels so good, and Connor gasps shallowly through his nose as his hips quicken, thrusting against the cock in his ass and into the hand on him.

It rises, heat and want and nausea at what his brother is doing, what he’s not fighting hard enough to stop. But he can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t move except to rock his hips and feel the hot pleasure reaching its peak.

He can’t stop moving as his come spills from his cock. The hand on him squeezes hard on each upstroke, and he bucks and cries weakly, trembling as Nines fucks him through it. He can feel his own spend, the way Nines catches some with his fingers and slicks his cock with it. It’s so wet and warm and Connor shuts his eyes against tears and gasps.

“ _Oh,_ ” Nines groans, shuddering against Connor, hips stuttering. “ _Fuck._ So tight for me, brother, so good.”

Connor’s thighs and knees feel like jelly, but the body pressing him into the countertop holds him in place, the cock pounding him open not even pausing as Connor clenches around it through the remains of his orgasm.

“Didn’t that feel good, Connor? I told you.” Nines kisses and sucks at his neck between his words. “I love you. I love you so much.”

He’s still stroking Connor’s cock, still fucking his ass open, and it’s quickly becoming too much. Connor scrabbles at the marble, trying to angle his arm beneath, to halt the hand on his cock, but he’s pushed too far over the counter, can’t get his elbow hooked around it to reach.

Stop, he wants to cry, but all he can do is gasp. Nines’ forefinger and thumb pinch shut over his nose before he can draw breath again, cutting him off, and his panic eats at the scant air, leaving his lungs burning and desperate in seconds.

“Shh, remember, Connor.” Nines grunts as he thrusts shallowly, but he keeps his voice an intimate whisper. “Wouldn’t want mother to find us. To know you came from being fucked by your own brother.”

Tears drip from Connor’s lashes, and his hips quiver as he tries to jerk away from Nines’ hand, cock so sensitive the relentless touch is painful, the friction scorching. Everything is too much—his brother’s touch, his weight, the fire in Connor’s lungs, the cock in his ass. It doesn’t stop, Nines hits that spot in him again, driving against it forcefully, making Connor choke on his own spit.

The fingers over his nose let go, and he can’t draw enough air into his starved lungs. He sobs and that only makes it harder to breath, makes it harder to think.

He’s still hard in his brother’s hand, and Nines strikes that spot unrelentingly, pushing hot pleasure up Connor’s spine and across his skin. He feels the pressure building in his gut again, faster than before despite how painful it is.

“Can you come again, Connor? Will you come for your brother one more time?”

He sobs, shaking his head weakly, his tears magnifying the lights of the tree into stars, and then does anyways, hips bucking weakly, trying to pull away from the fingers squeezing him too tight. It dribbles out, barely anything, and Nines moans long and low against his back, hips snapping frantically against Connor’s.

“Just like that. Yes, yes, yes,” he whispers as Connor clenches around him, pressing his forehead tight to the top of Connor’s spine. His hand stills on Connor’s cock as he fucks into his brother hard.

Wet warmth slowly fills him, and Connor’s tears come faster as he realizes his brother is coming, fucking his seed into him until each thrust squelches. He can feel it dripping onto his balls, hot and sticky.

“So good for me,” Nines pants, fingers relaxing around Connor’s mouth before falling to the counter. His hips slow, and he presses tight to Connor’s ass, burying himself to the hilt. Connor can feel Nines’ cock twitching in him, spurting more deep inside.

“Nines. Nines,” Connor sobs between lungfuls of air. “Please. _Why?_ ”

“Because I love you, Connor.” Nines raises his hand from the countertop to stroke it along Connor’s temple, brushing the fall of his sweat-soaked hair aside.

Connor whimpers as the hand on his cock pumps him again, and he’s glad he’s facing away so he can’t see the look in Nines’ eyes as his brother says, “I don’t want anyone else to touch you ever again. You’re mine.”


End file.
